


Sir

by calrissian18



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Assistant Draco Malfoy, Jealousy, M/M, Minister for Magic Harry Potter, Mutual Pining, verbal kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-30
Updated: 2012-11-30
Packaged: 2017-11-19 21:38:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/577921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calrissian18/pseuds/calrissian18
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Minister Harry Potter has a kink.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sir

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this as a birthday present for paigeey07 and it is far and away my most popular piece. It's not only fluff - it's _so much_ fluff. *sigh*

 

“Sir, is that all for today?”  
  
A shiver went up Harry’s spine at the sound of the word 'sir' slipping from those gorgeous pink lips. God, it was that word. It completely undid him every time that silvery-blond devil uttered it.  
  
“Yes, Draco. I think that’s it, unless of course you wanted to give me another one of those heart-stopping massages,” he teased.  
  
Draco paused outside Harry’s door, his coat hung over his forearm. His silver-blond hair was tied back in a black ribbon at the base of his neck, his long fingers were picking at the fabric resting over his arms, and his robes were buttoned tight across a Quidditch-toned chest. He was still svelte, while somehow managing to be well-defined, and his grey eyes were hypnotizing-ly lovely as he looked over his slender, aristocratic nose into Harry’s hopeful emerald eyes.  
  
He smiled warmly, his luscious lips quirking up, and gave a slight nod before hanging his coat on the rack by the door and moving to stand behind Harry in his office.  
  
Harry leaned forward at his desk and placed his face in his hands, his elbows resting on his knees while Draco stood behind his high-backed chair and ran his fingers over the sensitive skin of Harry’s neck. Harry shivered and Draco laughed warmly.  
  
His smooth hands slid erotically over his shoulders and Harry tried not to hunch and escape. He had asked for this, he remembered, breathing deeply. Draco’s fingers moved lightly but pressed firm whenever they found a knot and worked it tenderly but diligently from existence.  
  
Harry was in heaven and felt the first stirrings of arousal as Draco’s fingers slipped from his neck to his shoulder blades. He stifled a moan as the silvery-blond moved lower, running his thumbs up either side of Harry’s spine. He bit his lip, making sure his face and lower half were hidden, his elbows almost slipping off his knees.  
  
Draco leaned forward over the chair, finding tension right above the small of Harry’s back. His fingers pressed and caressed away the stress he was carrying there and Harry was trying to subtly cross his legs to hide his throbbing hard-on. When Draco leaned further, his hands moving lower, his hair tickling Harry’s neck, Harry had to stuff his fist in his mouth to keep from making noise.  
  
“You’re so tense, sir,” Draco whispered softly in his ear, his silvery tresses brushing against the stubble of Harry’s cheek.  
  
Harry’s skin was on fire with every light drag of fingernails, and every touch was amplified but it was the _sir_ that caused his hips to buck into thin air until he shot out of the chair, almost knocking into Draco, and declared shakily, “That’s enough for today. Thank you, Draco.”  
  
He grabbed his own cloak, hoping his robes were hiding his pure enjoyment of such a simple act and Apparated directly out of his office. He rarely ever did such a thing but he barely even made it to his kitchen sink before he was fisting himself and coming like a madman.  
  
Harry panted, red-faced, and turned on the water to wash away the evidence of his leavings. He wet a washcloth with cold water and pressed it to the back of his neck, noticing the waiting face in his Floo. His heart jumped into his throat before realizing the face wasn’t moving. Just a message, he thought, letting out a relieved breath.  
  
It was Ron’s grinning face and booming voice that spoke to him from the flames. “Hiya, Harry. ‘Mione and I were thinking of heading out to the Three Broomsticks. Surely the Minister of Magic isn’t too busy to join his two best friends for a pint?”  
  
Harry smiled. No, he wasn’t too busy at all.  
  
He showered before meeting his friends, still feeling rather hot and bothered from that afternoon’s entertainment, and dressed in regal robes that Draco had picked out for him for a business lunch. He hated being unable to dress casually but certain things were expected of a Minister, among them that he dress very drably and never have too much excitement in his life.  
  
Ron and Hermione spotted him instantly as everyone in the place made a wide berth, torn between his celebrity and his status. They didn’t know whether to fawn over him or respect his space, and it generally left them dancing around him in a curious circle. They waved him over and Hermione scoffed good-naturedly as he sat. “Draco dressing you again?”  
  
Harry blushed and ducked his head. “I picked out my clothes tonight.” Leaving out the fact that Draco had picked them out originally.  
  
Ron nudged him and indicated the drink in front of him. “Sorry, mate. We ordered for ya, figured you’d be late, as usual.” He snorted. “I swear, I don’t know how you ever survived without Malfoy as your assistant.”  
  
Harry laughed agreeably. “Me neither honestly. I barely remember my glasses without him to remind me. I think I’ve become too reliant,” he joked. “He left last week to visit his mother and I swear I called the Minister of Bermuda the Minister of Berlin’s name.” He frowned remembering and added thoughtfully, “He didn’t take too kindly to that actually.”  
  
“Don’t know how they ever let a git like you become Minister,” Ron said, slapping Harry on the shoulder. Looked like he and Hermione had been drinking without him.  
  
It was two drinks later that Hermione started in. “Have you met anyone, Harry? And don’t you give me that ‘you’re too busy’ speech,” she said, glaring. Only Hermione could be intimidating whilst completely pissed. “If you’ve time enough to go out with us, you’ve time enough to date. I’ve told you, I know a lovely girl, works in the Magical Creature Relations department with me. She’s eager to meet you—”  
  
“And I’ve told you I’m not interested,” Harry only slightly slurred.  
  
“You’re hopeless,” Hermione said, throwing up her hands. “You haven’t dated anyone since Ginny and it’s completely…” She searched for the word, both Ron and Harry watching in jaw-dropped amazement as she failed to instantaneously grasp it. Finally she smiled triumphantly and emphasized, “ _Inappropriate_ for a _Minister_ to be unattached.”  
  
Ron eyed Harry closely, leaning forward uncomfortably close before leaning back until he almost fell out of the booth as if trying to get him in focus. He finally announced, hiccupping and apparently deciding he didn’t need to see Harry to declare, “We’re beginning to think you’re asexual, mate.”  
  
Harry picked at the label on his Firewhisky, getting the little paper pieces stuck under his fingernails, and muttered, “I wish.”  
  
It was much later that Harry, a babbling Ron, and a still impressively sober-acting Hermione exited the Three Broomsticks and went their separate ways with a plan to meet up the same time next week. Harry collapsed on his bed and dreamt of silvery-blond hair, beautifully full lips, and a passion-strained _sir_.  


♕

  
  
“How was your weekend, sir?” Draco asked, a small curve to his lips as he leaned over Harry to place the reports he had asked for on his desk.  
  
Harry’s breath caught at the sound of that perfect syllable and the proximity of Draco’s body. He nearly choked on his muffin. He brushed the crumbs off his robes and coughed, “It was fine, Draco. Just fine. And yours?”  
  
“The same, sir,” Draco said demurely, Vanishing the wrapper the muffin had come in.  
  
Harry stood up as Draco made to leave and said quickly, desperate to hear more of that word that made his stomach flutter, “Draco, do I look all right for a meeting with the goblins?”  
  
Draco paused with his hand on the doorframe and turned around, eyeing him carefully. His face broke out in a tight-lipped grin and he said softly, “Sir, how do you manage these things?”  
  
“Hmm?” Harry started, warmth pooling in his abdomen. He sucked in his breath too quickly as Draco stood in front of him and leaned against his front so that their chests were touching. Harry fought to keep his hands down at his sides while his fingers itched to wrap around Draco’s middle.  
  
His eyes bulged as he felt Draco’s thin fingers slide through his hair, separating the strands while Harry tried not to mewl. Draco pulled back and Harry dug his fingernails into his palms to keep them from reaching for him.  
  
“Have a little trouble today, sir?” Draco asked amusedly as he held a leaf and a twig in his hands.  
  
Harry looked at him sheepishly, his face heated from that brilliant word. “I went flying this morning, to take the edge off. You know how eerie the goblins are.”  
  
Draco nodded, still looking close to a chuckle. He brushed his hands over Harry’s front, spreading his fingers like a lover’s touch to get rid of any excess crumbs Harry might have missed. Harry swallowed hard while Draco’s grey eyes swept over him. He chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment before announcing, “You look very handsome, sir.”  
  
Harry fought against the blush that wanted to spread up his neck to his face. He grinned lopsidedly and was about to thank him when Draco raised his wand and Harry felt a tingle of magic wash over him. _Draco’s_ magic. He closed his eyes only to snap them open when Draco said happily, “Yes, that’s better, sir. A higher collar, it’s meant to be a sign of power amongst the goblin clan when meeting with a human.”  
  
Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair to get any twigs they might have missed, still painfully hard. “What would I do without you, Draco?”  
  
Draco smiled at him. “Let’s hope you never have to find out, sir.”  
  
Harry sat through his meeting with Grimloir, trying to concentrate on what the tough-looking goblin was saying about improving relations between his clan and hinkypunks but his mind strayed back to the office, specifically to his soft-voiced, straight-laced assistant.  
  
Draco had been by his side, through the war and after, ever since Voldemort had tortured his mother to insanity after his Father’s failure in the Ministry during their fifth year. Harry didn’t know why he thought of Lucius in capital letters only that that’s how Draco referred to him. It was always spat and always capital, ‘ _Father_ ’ and never ‘ _My Father_ ’ either. Just Father.  
  
Draco had been there for everything, including his seemingly hopeless Horcrux search. He had lost most of his bite after his mother’s torture but it was his screaming at Harry, their fighting, that had finally pulled Harry out of his depression after his godfather’s death and into the war.  
  
After it was over, Harry couldn’t imagine not being in close contact with him and when he was offered the post of Minister due to Scrimgeour’s death, he accepted, knowing he’d be in a position to give Draco a job, no matter what the standing of his last name was.  
  
And so Draco had become his assistant, being completely uninterested in any other position Harry offered him as he was rather shy and modest these days.  
  
Harry couldn’t say when his feelings had become less murderous and more ravenous but he thought it was sometime during the war. Too much was happening to pinpoint the exact moment but when it was over and Ginny approached him, he had moved past fiery red hair and was much too enthralled with silvery-blond to even give her the time of day.  


♕

  
  
“Sir, would you like anything from the lunch cart or will I be ordering out for you again today?” Draco asked, his silvery-blond hair hanging loosely over his cheeks today as he poked his head inside Harry’s door.  
  
Harry, who had been poring over endless reports, was happy for the beautiful interruption… lunch of course and smiled at him, the _sir_ making his eyes glaze over with lust. “The cart will be fine. An egg salad sandwich today, I think.”  
  
Draco nodded and withdrew from the room, leaving Harry’s door slightly cracked. Harry rubbed the bridge of his nose and got up from his desk. “Actually, Draco I—” Harry began, intending to change his order to something less filling when his jaw dropped open.  
  
He watched with increasing fury as the delivery boy flirted with a severely uncomfortable looking Draco. He brushed their fingertips together and gave Draco a sultry smile before pushing his loose hair back behind his ear familiarly. Harry saw red while Draco blushed brightly and averted his eyes.  
  
He stormed over to them, grabbed Draco’s wrist and reached across his desk for his cloak. “We’re going out,” he growled to the stunned looking delivery boy and the equally surprised Draco.  
  
Harry shoved the cloak into Draco’s hands, watching the blond put it on silently out of his periphery while he fumed. People nodded to him as they exited the lifts and he stomped his way through the Atrium, holding tightly to Draco’s wrist again, completely ignoring the fanfare that usually annoyed the hell out of him.  
  
He dragged Draco to a deli on the corner and sat him down while he ordered their lunch. He threw himself down on the other side of the table across from Draco when it was done and fought against crossing his arms petulantly.  
  
“Sir?” Draco began hesitantly. Despite himself, arousal jolted through Harry’s veins. “Have I done something to upset you?”  
  
Harry clenched his jaw. “We are never ordering from the lunch cart again, do you understand me?”  
  
Draco nodded and tried to surreptitiously massage his wrist under the table but Harry caught the action anyway and groaned. “Oh Merlin, Draco. I’m such an idiot. Please tell me I didn’t hurt you?”  
  
Draco released his wrist instantly as if he’d touched fire and shook his head. “No, sir. It’s nothing.”  
  
Harry closed his eyes at the sir, willing himself not to become aroused as he held out his hand for Draco’s wrist across the table. Draco produced it feebly and Harry pushed his robes up to his elbow, trying not to feel the sparks as his hand slid over the flawless skin. He eyed Draco’s wrist, thinking how gorgeously delicate his skin was and how he desired to mark every square inch.  
  
There was no bruise from his fingers but he was salivating with the thought of purpling it with his lips and he released Draco’s arm abruptly, mumbling, “I’m glad you’re all right.”  
  
Draco looked away from him and a pink hue was tingeing his cheeks as he whispered, “I’ve never been in danger with you, sir.”  


♕

  
  
Harry wasn’t sure if he was in heaven or hell. “Is this the one, sir?” Harry crossed his legs tightly and bit his lip, staring unabashedly as Draco stood on his tiptoes and reached up to the top ledge of his bookshelf. His work-appropriate shirt was riding up, showing a strip of a pale, flawless, muscled back and his trousers were clinging lovingly to the swell of his arse.  
  
His robes were hanging over the back of his chair at his small cubicle outside Harry’s office as someone had permanently fucked up the heating and cooling system as an April Fool’s Day prank and the department had yet to discover how to fix it. And so began Harry’s week of torture.  
  
“A little to the left,” Harry squeaked. He honestly had no idea what book he was looking for any longer, or if Draco was anywhere near it. All he _was_ sure of was that he had never been harder in his life.  
  
Draco stretched his body to reach higher, the muscles shifting under the pale skin of his back and his neck arching, his hair falling down against his shoulders, and Harry lost it.  
  
He moaned.  
  
Loudly.  
  
Followed by a breathy, “Gods.”  
  
Draco stilled instantly and Harry was mortified, unable to believe what he’d just done.  
  
“Sir?” Draco asked uncertainly and, god, Harry was going to come right there if he didn’t get Draco out of his office.  
  
“D-Draco…” Harry began uncertainly, the blond eyeing him questioningly, when an owl flew in his window announcing his Fire Call with the Head of Libya. He held up the parchment as if it were a white flag, smiling gratefully. “Well, I’ve got to take this.”  
  
Draco nodded curtly and left his office with a quiet, “Of course, sir.”  
  
Harry pushed down a groan and tried to ignore the odd squirming in his stomach.  


♕

  
  
Harry stayed in his office the rest of the day, berating himself and fisting his hair. He was unsure if he should address the moan or ignore it completely. He didn’t want to make Draco uncomfortable and he certainly didn’t want to lose him as an assistant. He saw the light where the crack of his door met the floor extinguish and he hoped the blond would say goodnight to him as he usually did.  
  
Sure enough there was a soft knock on his door and then Draco was peering around the oak. “Will that be all, sir?”  
  
Harry swallowed thickly, his body not losing any time in responding to that sharp word. He nodded but called Draco back before he could close the door. “Um… Draco, I have this Ministry gala I have to attend, um, tomorrow night and while I’m sure you’ve, uh, already made plans,” Harry tried to keep his features neutral as he imagined just what these other plans might involve and continued, “but, well, if you’re, by any chance, uh, you know, _not_ busy. I, well, you could, um, well, you could go with me.”  
  
Draco smiled, probably the widest he’d ever given Harry, and said softly, “I’ve already picked out our robes, sir.”  
  
Harry flushed and was spared having to stutter a response as Draco closed the door.  


♕

  
  
Draco showed up right on time outside the museum where the event was being held, in fitted robes of a deep blue that complimented the flecks in his eyes as well as Harry’s own robes of green. He always did a wonderful job on Harry’s outfits; it was no surprise that he could dress himself as well.  
  
His hair was tied back with a green ribbon and he looked absolutely radiant. Harry tried to douse the one-hundred watt grin that wanted to stretch across his face but only managed to get it down to about an eighty.  
  
Harry held out his arm and Draco smiled at him before a look of sheer terror crossed his features. “Oh no, sir, I’ve forgotten the tickets.”  
  
“Draco, it’s all right,” Harry began amusedly, trying to calm the nervous blond. “I’m the Minister, I’m sure it won’t matter in the least.”  
  
Draco shook his head and looked at Harry fearfully. “No, I’ll go get them, sir. I’ve left them on my desk at the Ministry.”  
  
Harry was trying to soothe Draco and fight his arousal, losing at both, he finally sighed, “I’ll go with you, all right?”  
  
Draco nodded and Apparated them without further thought. He stood looking at Harry for a second as they reappeared in the hallway to his office, his voice was strained and pleading, “Please don’t fire me, sir.”  
  
Harry groaned, his cock twitching, and reached out a hand for Draco’s cheek, stroking the soft skin. “Why would you think I’d do that? I’d be lost without you, Draco.”  
  
Draco nodded tersely and moved over to his desk, rustling the papers on top before leaning down and looking through his drawers. Watching the velvet-covered arse bob and weave was too much for Harry and he went into his own office to try and will away his erection.  
  
Harry was standing with his back to the door, trying to get a hold of himself. His hands were planted on either end of his desk and he barely heard the door to his office open before he was accosted by a soft, “Sir?”  
  
Harry whimpered and his hips bucked despite himself. He turned around to look into Draco’s wide eyes, there being no mistake what was going on now. “Draco,” he whined, begging him not to leave.  
  
Draco took a step closer to him and cocked his head to the side, silvery-blond hair that had broken free of its tie hung over a questioning grey eye. “Sir?”  
  
Harry moaned and his hips rolled. “Oh god, Draco, don’t,” he pleaded. “You have no idea what you do to me.”  
  
Draco stepped behind him and slid his arms in between the gaps in Harry’s, placing the tickets down in front of him.  
  
They were too close and Harry was going to die of the stimulation. “Good,” he said through clenched teeth, squeaking, “then we can go.”  
  
Draco’s hands slid up his chest and Harry couldn’t breathe. “Draco, please…” he begged. He couldn’t hold out much longer.  
  
Draco’s long fingers began undoing the buttons of his robes from behind as his soft voice purred, “Oh, I have no intention of going anywhere, sir.”  
  
Harry groaned and Draco’s hands found the belt of his trousers, deftly undoing the strap and the zip. Harry gasped as sure, cool fingers he’d only ever fantasized about closed around his erection. He leaned his weight back against Draco and panted, “What are we doing?”  
  
Draco’s words dripped pure sex, “I’m assisting you, sir.” His hand moved the skin of Harry’s cock up and down at an agonizingly slow pace while his other slipped underneath Harry’s shirt and spread out over his tanned skin, exploring.  
  
“Draco,” Harry moaned, bucking into his hand while his unbuttoned robes slipped down to his elbows. He threw his head forward, pressing back against Draco as he thrust into the blond’s hand.  
  
Draco snarled at the feeling and pushed against Harry’s arse with a matching arousal and Harry had to bite down on his tongue so as not to come so soon, having to do with both the blond’s hard-on and the first aggressive sound he’d heard from him in years.  
  
He watched his beads of sweat splash on the lacquered wood of his desk while Draco fisted him. His breathing was labored now as the silvery-blond matched his strokes with thrusts of his pelvis. Harry could only imagine what they looked like, the Minister of Magic bent over his desk while his assistant dry humped him through their robes – thoroughly debauched certainly.  
  
Draco growled and bit down on Harry’s neck as he withdrew his hands. Harry groaned and cried out for him when Draco twisted him around. Lust was looking back at him out of Draco’s grey eyes and he leaned forward and kissed Harry possessively.  
  
Harry moaned and felt like his heart might burst. He brought one hand to the back of Draco’s neck so he could shove his tongue into the blond’s mouth while the other wrapped around his waist, pulling their arousals together with a groan.  
  
Draco broke free of Harry’s grip and smirked wickedly as he sank to his knees. His delicate hands ripped Harry’s trousers and pants down around his thighs as he eyed Harry’s cock appreciatively. Draco looked up at him mischievously, warning, “Brace yourself, sir,” before he lunged forward.  
  
It was good advice to be sure as Harry’s knees buckled and he had only his hands behind him on his desk holding him up. Draco held his hips back against the smooth wood while he ran his tongue from root to tip. Harry did his best not to buck into Draco’s mouth but soon he was fisting that gossamer soft hair as he’d only ever imagined and thrusting into that heat.  
  
He watched those gorgeous lips stretch around him and could no longer hold back as he came down Draco’s throat. He watched the blond swallow, some of his semen dripping from the corner of his mouth.  
  
Harry lifted him up and licked it from his chin before plunging his tongue inside and kissing Draco fervently.  
  
Again, Draco broke the kiss. “How do you want me, sir?” he asked sultrily. Harry was utterly mesmerized as his hands worked at the catch of his trousers while he shrugged out of his robe.  
  
Harry’s mouth was too full of saliva to speak and he swallowed hastily. “Gods, Draco, I’ve wanted this—I’ve wanted you—I can’t believe—”  
  
Draco cut him off with a sharp, “Then take me, sir.”  
  
“Gods, Draco!” Harry near screamed as his still half-hard cock twitched to full attention. He watched Draco carefully and said hoarsely, “The chair.” Gods, how many times had he fantasized about that?  
  
Harry stepped out of his pants and tore off his shirt as he made his way over to the chair, sitting down in it as if it were a throne. He slumped down, his cock now bobbing at full attention against his stomach, and spread his legs.  
  
Draco’s own trousers dropped and Harry had to wipe drool off his chin as that perfectly purpled erection jutted out from blond curls. He pulled his shirt off over his head and revealed the beautiful canvas of his chest. Harry had to have him. And he had to have him _now_.  
  
“Draco…” he whined, his cock spasming.  
  
Draco straddled him on the chair, his smooth thighs brushing against the tops of Harry’s as he leaned forward and rubbed their chests together. He reached behind him and grabbed hold of Harry to position him. “Wait,” Harry panted, “preparation.”  
  
Draco, surprisingly, blushed and mumbled almost too soft for Harry to hear, “It’s okay. I-I prepared myself while thinking about meeting you tonight, sir.”  
  
“Oh fuck, Draco,” Harry cursed, his declaration turning into a single harsh breath as the blond sank onto his cock.  
  
Draco’s face was pinched in concentration, his silky hair had mostly broken free of its binding with the night’s activities and hung in wet tendrils over his cheeks and forehead, his pale skin was alive with patches of red and his eyelashes were fluttering against his cheeks while his jaw worked relentlessly, flexing under the smooth skin. “Beautiful,” Harry whispered in a choked tone as he was enveloped in the impossibly tight blond.  
  
Harry waited for Draco to adjust, holding the gorgeous blond by the back of his neck, closing his eyes as he nodded and thrust shallowly. Draco kissed Harry’s forehead, forcing those emerald eyes open, and said softly, “I won’t break… _sir_.”  
  
And that broke Harry, of any control he might have had. He groaned and let his forehead fall forward against the blond’s sweat-slicked chest as he pounded him fiercely.  
  
Draco rode him just as good as he got, his thighs no doubt burning from the strain. He leaned forward and kissed Harry intensely before saying, “Wait, sir.”  
  
“Fuck,” Harry muttered as he stopped thrusting into Draco’s lithe body and sat back against the sticky leather of the chair he would never look at the same way. Draco leaned back with his elbows on the desk, biting his lip as he held himself up, and drawing his legs up to wrap them around Harry’s waist between his back and the chair.  
  
The angle changed and both Harry and Draco screamed as Harry was taken deeper inside the blond. “Oh Gods, sir!” Draco moaned, “Yes, right there!”  
  
“Draco,” Harry growled. “Gonna fuck you so hard,” he promised as he wrapped his arms around the blond’s waist for leverage and began thrusting into him.  
  
“Oh Gods! Fuck yes, do it, sir! Right fucking there!” Draco’s head was thrashing wildly as Harry assaulted his prostate and Harry could tell he was close, if Draco stretched just a little more then Harry could… Yes!  
  
“Oh fuck! Sir!” Draco screamed as Harry managed to arch his back so that the tip of Draco’s cock was in his mouth. The blond exploded on his tongue and the contracting muscles brought Harry off on a particularly long and forceful thrust.  
  
Harry fell back against the chair and pulled Draco forward with him, both of them panting and satiated. “Draco, that was—”  
  
Draco looked down and frowned. “Oh no, sir,” he began and Harry swallowed, his cock jumping inside Draco even as he worried. “We’ve missed the benefit,” he said sorrowfully, before wiggling back down on Harry’s cock and grinning evilly. “That word really does undo you, doesn’t it, sir?”  
  
Harry pulled Draco tighter against him and ground his teeth. “Don’t tease me, Draco.”  
  
Draco pushed down again and caught Harry’s chin with a velvety hand. “Oh, sir, it’s only teasing if I have no intention of following through.” And with that he kissed Harry deeply.


End file.
